Queen of the Wood ✅

6 - Phantoms

What felt like eons later, Dad and I finally pulled up to the house.

I had spent the rest of the visitation tucked away in the family room, finding things much smoother. Brett stayed with me for a bit but eventually had to go - something about helping his father out. We mostly talked about Grams. Part of me wanted him to stay for the rest of the visitation, but I knew that wasn't fair. Brett had a life and needed to get back to it.

The drive home had been quiet. Neither of us said much, though I could feel Dad glancing at me frequently. Once he turned the car off, he didn't move to get out, instead turning towards me.

"Saw Brett with you."

My eyebrows shot up as I looked over at him. I wasn't really expecting him to comment on that.

"Yeah... he, uh, wanted to talk about Grams more." I stared down at my hands in my lap.

I wasn't sure why I was acting like a teenager who just got caught making out with her boyfriend. It wasn't like we were doing anything remotely inappropriate. No one but Dad could see us anyway. And Brett was only there for about 10 minutes.

But it was 10 minutes when I breathed easier.

"Always thought he was a good kid," Dad commented, taking his seatbelt off.

I did the same, now watching him curiously. I wanted to ask more, but it didn't seem appropriate, considering we had just returned from Grams' visitation.

We got out of the car and walked into the house, Dad stretching as he started towards his study.

"I got some papers to look over. Anything particular ya want for dinner tonight?" he asked, glancing at me over his shoulder.

I shook my head, knowing any minute now, the first of the church ladies would be stopping by with food. I had overheard them discussing whoever was bringing things over and when at the visitation. Regardless, I didn't plan to be downstairs when dinner arrived.

Dad nodded back and continued on. I stood in the foyer until I heard the click of his door shut, then walked to the kitchen.

True, it was still late afternoon, but as everyone loves to say, it's always 5 o'clock somewhere. And right now, I could use a drink to take the edge off my slightly hellish day. I walked straight to the wine rack on the counter and grabbed a random bottle before retrieving a wine opener and glass.

Once I had everything, I climbed the stairs, but rather than going to my room, I walked down the hallway to Grams', stopping just outside the shut door. Now that I was here, it felt a bit wrong to be drinking in her room, but I was desperate to feel close to her again. And I knew she'd have a glass of wine or two on the balcony.

I had been sitting with her a few of those times.

Taking a deep breath, I opened the door and walked in, stopping just over the threshold. I could feel the prick of hot tears in my eyes as I looked around. Everything was in perfect condition. Her bed was made with a mountain of throw pillows. The air was heavy with the scent of the perfume she always wore. It was floral, yet it never gave me a headache like whatever it was the other old ladies at church would wear.

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I walked across the plush carpet to the French doors that led out to the balcony. While I loved the spot under the Willow Oak, this was the next best place to sit and think. I sat in one of the wicker chairs, sinking into the thick cushion as I placed the wine, opener, and glass on the table beside me. I made quick work of pouring a glass before pulling my legs up into the chair and taking a long, deep breath.

Today hadn't been as bad as I thought it would be. However, that was in part because I hid for most of it.

Tomorrow, there would be no hiding. I would be in full view of the entire town as I sat in the front pew of First Baptist Church next to my father. I couldn't step away from the receiving line, even if I wanted to.